<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dean and Cas by bumblebi221</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29625219">Dean and Cas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblebi221/pseuds/bumblebi221'>bumblebi221</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Artist Dean Winchester, But I believe if the finale is somehow real then they were resurrected after, Canon Compliant, I'm not big on the finale but I had Photograph stuck in my head, Inspired by Music, M/M, Post-Finale, Song: Photograph (Ed Sheeran), The major character deaths are Dean and Cas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:21:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>826</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29625219</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblebi221/pseuds/bumblebi221</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is in the Empty. Dean is grieving. He never took enough pictures of Cas.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I had Photograph by Ed Sheeran stuck in my head and one thing led to another and yeah. I'm sad now. I don't like the finale but I had to write this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dean and Cas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean doesn’t have very many photos of Cas. He has some, sure. Celebratory selfies after solving a case. A few quick snapshots from around the bunker. But there aren’t very many. There isn’t enough to fill more than two pages in a scrapbook or a photo album. Dean just figured Cas would always be around. You don’t need pictures when someone’s always with you. Well. Dean was wrong. The more time went on, the more Dean realized he was wrong. He was wrong about controlling Sam when they were younger. Wrong for following in his father’s footsteps when he was mad at Jack. And he was wrong about Cas. Cas was gone. The Empty - well, it wasn’t about to return its purchase any time soon. Dean locked himself in his room, which had turned into a pit of despair - clothes littered the floor, as did beer bottles and pizza boxes. He ignored Sam, Jack, and Eileen’s frantic knocking on the door. He felt bad - he did, but he just couldn’t do anything. He had failed to save Cas.</p>
<p>He didn’t have very many photos of Cas. And now Cas was gone. Dean replayed the memories in his mind - Cas blowing out all the lights in the barn that night, Cas frightening the prostitute in the brothel, Cas molotoving Michael with holy fire, Cas healing him after Sam had jumped into the pit, Cas betraying them for Crowley, Cas drowning under Leviathans, Cas returning and saving Sam, Cas with the ‘Sorry!’ game, Cas holding out a bag of honey to the king of Hell, finding Cas in Purgatory, losing Cas, reuniting with him again, Cas trying to be a hunter, Cas nearly killing him, kicking Cas out of the bunker, Cas getting a job, riding with Cas and Crowley in the pimpmobile, Cas in the cowboy hat, Cas and Jack, late-night chats, and… and Cas’ last night. Dean could see them flashing like one’s life might flash before their eyes. But he knew he couldn’t remember forever. That’s when he found himself reaching for an empty notebook.</p>
<p>He didn’t know where it came from. It might’ve been a present from Sam. One of those presents that you don’t wrap or announce - you just leave it somewhere for the recipient to find. Dean couldn’t - wouldn’t - think of any other explanation for it. He found himself reaching for a pencil - it was old, the eraser was worn-down and it was a regular old HB. He put the pencil to the first page, and he drew the barn, covered in sigils. He drew the shattered light bulbs, the sparks flying everywhere. He drew Cas, with his disheveled hair, his crooked tie, with the bullet holes in his coat, fired by panicked Dean and Bobby. Then he flipped the page.</p>
<p>Cas downed his beer, eyes wide in the dimly-lit brothel. Cas threw a molotov at his older brother, looking completely unafraid. Cas stood, pleading with Dean, in a ring of holy fire. Cas’ trenchcoat floated in the river shallow. Cas sat by Sam on the bed and absorbed his Hell trauma. Cas held up the board game box, not understanding the gravity of the situation. Cas held up a ziploc bag of honey. Cas washed his bearded face in a gray river. Cas’ hand slipped loose as he fell back into Purgatory. Cas sat on the motel bed, thumbing through John Winchester’s journal. Cas stood with his hand raised, holding a knife and ready to strike, but his eyes were softened and sorry. Cas walked dejectedly up the bunker stairs. Cas pointed to his store-issued nametag. Cas glared at Crowley in the backseat of a ‘78 Lincoln. Cas rolled his eyes while donning a cowboy hat. Cas gave Jack his trench coat. Cas held a glass of whiskey in an armchair in the library. Cas cried, somehow smiling, while black ooze crept in and covered him. Dean drew Cas over and over and over again, drawing anything he could think of. He never colored them, except for Cas’ eyes and his grace. Blue. Bright blue, like the ocean or the sky. Sometimes both. He didn’t keep them in the book. He ripped them out and stuck them on the walls, in boxes under his bed, in dresser drawers, anywhere and everywhere. The trash and mess was cleaned up to make room for Cas. He wasn’t gone. He was here. He was with Dean.</p>
<p>When Dean died, Sam didn’t know what to expect when he walked into his brother’s old room. He hadn’t been in since before Cas died. He didn’t expect, however, to see hundreds of Cas covering the walls. He didn’t expect to find more drawings behind those drawings, and under the bed, and in the dresser, and under floorboards. He didn’t move the drawings. He didn’t touch anything. And when he left the room, he closed the door behind him, and put a sign on it.</p>
<p>
  <em>Dean and Cas.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>